Shadows from the Darkness
by American Harmony
Summary: Full summary inside! Harry has a tough life; full of hurt, pain and pressure. After living through these tough times to reach his fourth year, his world only continues to haunt him; and what is Snape to do with the chosen one, who lives a not so golden life?
1. Mini Me

**INTRODUCTION**

Harry is lives with the Dursleys up until the age of eleven when he is taken away for his first year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Little does Harry know that things in his life will change in ways beyond anything he could have ever imagined. Snape will play a huge role; but this relationship will take a while to build. This will (In a long while and very many chapters in the future,) become a Snape guardian piece; eventually, this may lead to a potential adoption…

These pieces will both loosely follow the events from the books, up to book 4, however they will be vastly different at the same time. The current timescale will begin at the beginning of book 4. **Disclaimer however, I own nothing!**

There will be very violent, graphic and mature aspects, however warnings will be issued at the end of the previous chapter and the beginning of the chapter in question. Should the content be seriously graphic ect, then I will also endeavour to place markers around that content, allowing readers to miss those select areas should they wish.

This is my very first submissions, so no flaming or harsh berating please - if content is wrong (I know aspects of the films and books contradict each other as well) then let me know, but it may not be an issue, or it may be something I wish to put in for a reason. Reviews welcome however, and I will also endeavor to run a points system for all reviewers. (Each reviewer tells me their house allegiance when they review and I give metaphorical points out. At the end of each chapter (starting in chapter two - from reviews in chapter one,) the house with the most points will win for that chapter and names of those in that allegiance will be named at the beginning of the proceeding chapter. (confused? Yeah me too….)

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**Chapter 1 - Mini Me**

Looking back at that fateful night in October when Harry was only a year old. It was dark and Harry was laid awake in his baby blue crib, staring intently at the little mobile that hung securely above his head, waving gently; the little animals, the giraffes and elephants rotating soundlessly, gradually inducing a peaceful sleep in the little boy. A soft lullaby was emanating from a little blue lamp, that sat atop a bedside table, next to a little fishy night light that, other than the window, was the only source of light throughout the room.

There was a sudden burst of noise, a crack that immediately interrupted Harry's reverie of sound slumber. That was no usual noise, there was a sinister sound to it that even the one year old Harry himself could distinguish. He waved his little arms around, and gurgled helplessly. He looked to the doors; the door where mummy and daddy came through to come and see him, to tend to his every need and comfort him noon until night. Harry reached for his mobile, little arms waving once more, but in a more delightful gesture, as he tried to catch the giraffe that was swirling around his head. He babbled at it to stop, but it didn't; yet before he could make another attempt to reach the dangling animal, another bang could be heard from the door this time - It was Lily, his mummy.

"It's okay sweetheart.." she assured Harry with a smile, but Harry knew, it was not the characteristically warm, comforting smile that she normally wore.

"Dada?" Harry tried again, with very little understanding of what was happening. Then a scary man, in black wavy clothes came in, they had pointy hats with gold masks. Teeth could be seen at the mouth of this mask. This was no time to play with the mobile any longer, the monster had come to eat him!

"Silence child!" One man scolded. He swished a stick towards his mother. "The Order of the Phoenix will be no more" he threatened.

"You can take me but you must leave my child!" Lily panicked, Harry had never heard her use that particular tone of voice before. His fear increased tenfold as Lily reached inside the crib and held him close, tighter than she ever had before, in the warmest guarding embrace imaginable, regardless of the terror that was unfolding before them.

"Goyle, Malfoy!" Another, larger man, and a somewhat portly man suddenly walked in, wearing green, one sporting a really lengthy nose, that would almost suffice as a coat hanger!

"Yes my Lord" they chorused.

"Round up a few others and instigate our next trip to the Longbottom's" The other two men in black cloaks responded immediately.

"At once my Lord."

Harry's memory was non-functional at that age, but he remembers this, including the sudden burst of bright green light and the haunting scream that has remained with him to this very day. Harry also remembers, even at that age, awakening on the floor. The lullaby wasn't playing any more, why had fishy turned off? It was all dark! He mustered the strength to crawl over to the now motionless Lily. He could see her bright green eyes, now radiating only a dull emerald glassy finish. He cradled himself to her tight, yet she never moved a muscle. That man had hurt his mummy. Where was daddy? Harry needed to find daddy, mummy wasn't moving, cuddling him to her like she normally did when he woke in the night and was scared. Crying didn't work, sitting with her didn't work, and holding her in an embrace failed also. After a terryfying wait for Lily to awaken, which never occured, Harry waddled away. He was now an accomplished walker, or so he and mummy and daddy thought, at such a young age. Daddy was nowhere; little did he know, that James, similarly to Lily, was lain on the back lawn, completely motionless and lifeless.

"'Allo 'Arry!" said a cheerful yet slightly gruff voice from behind a botanical garden of facial hair. "S'alright young fella, we'll 'av ya at y'relatives soon." Who was this big man? He was scary too!

Daylight had fallen upon Little Whinging and Harry found himself awakening to this man before him. He tried to crawl away, that was faster than walking at the moment. But the man reached for him and picked him up. Harry began to cry, cry for his mummy and daddy, and this scary man that was taking him away, like that other man tried to do.

"S'okay little one" cooed the soft voice from this huge bloke. "We'll get yer ter safety laddy." Something within that voice was soothing Harry and he immediately fell at ease, albeit remaining a little confused.

After a few more minutes of the big scary man in a big brown coat telling him that everything would be alright, Harry was no longer worried, and allowed himself to be carried outside without a struggle, where, at only a year old, he met the eyes of Professor Minerva McGonagall, and Professor Albus Dumbledore for the very first time.

* * *

After a treacherously long journey on the hairy man's flying motorbike, the youngster was dropped outside the home of his only living relatives. It was necessary for protection, whatever that is…

The man with the forest around his face was chatting heatedly to a man with a large puffy face and a profoundly gruff voice.

"I have nothing to do with this kid, and I refuse to take it!" Vernon barked, doing his best not to appear as if he was fearing Hagrid's presence on his spotless doorstep

"But Mr Dursley" Hagrid continued, "There's no other way for him that's safe, 'ee needs blood wards f'er protection y'see."

"That will not change my mind, now if you don't mind I really must…"

"But Mr Dursley Sir, you'll get all t'finance you'll need, you'll be given re'glar sums er money to pay fer' im." Vernon grunted, but halted, clearly in thought.

"Well" he said after a brief pause, "We'll take it then, but it will be of great devastation to the finances and care we'll be able to offer my Dudley, this one'll play second fiddle mind."

"But Mr Dursley…" However Vernon was already heading inside without so much as a false; polite goodbye, and the door was slammed on it's heavy oak frame into Hagrid's shocked face.

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Here we go! Thank you for all comments and reviews and subscriptions! I can't believe that people are actually creating alerts for my updates! You make my day! It is so much appreciated!

I have tried to sort the line spacing here, so hopefully this looks better than my last edition of the first chapter :/

Remember! Im still doing my house points!

Best wishes to you all x


	2. Limbo of love

**Chapter 2 - Limbo of love**

* * *

Harry was now three, however things were yet to change since the day Harry landed on the Dursley's doorstep.  
"BOY!" Vernon's voice rang through the house, obviously calling for Harry as Dudley would never have been treated in such a manner.  
"Yes uncle Vernon" Harry ran into the kitchen with increased strength

"What did I tell you about calling me uncle? And what did I tell you about running in my property!" He shouted in Harry's face. Vernon's fists rammed themselves into Harry and he tripped backwards. His fall must have taken so long, and with an audible 'bump' he had hit his head on the edge of the cooker.

"You are so clumsy boy! And also, do you know what I got today eh?" Vernon shouted, bending as far as he could, which was not too far considering his weight.

"No Sir" Harry whispered. Vernon grinned maliciously. He was almost laughing…

"How DARE you get sweets from the neighbours you nasty little tearaway!"

"I-I"

"OR SPEAK?" He bellowed, even Petunia's eyes had widened as she looked round at Vernon from her position at one of the counter tops in the kitchen, and she began to rub the parsnips so furiously against the metal peeler that she was grating them rather than skinning them.

"BOY!" Vernon had maintained his focus on Harry. His hand reached to the countertop next to the stove and he placed his hand, slowly, and tightly round the handle of a flat backed black frying pan. Harry tried to scramble away but Vernon's right foot jammed into Harry's side and immediately halted his progress.

The frying pan's decent came so fast that nobody had registered it for at least a few seconds after it's occurrence. This went on for a further ten minutes until Harry's screams had turned to peaceful, black silence. There was nothing anyone could have done to help Harry, or so he felt.

* * *

Harry was four. Aunt Marge was round to stay for the weekend, as she often did. Everyone was sat around the table, and for once, this included Harry.

"Still got that wretched boy eh Vernon?" Aunt Marge hollered in what was actually her normal tone of voice. Aunt Petunia had to resist the urge to cover her ears from the mere booming masculinity of her voice!

"Ah unfortunately Marge dear, unfortunately, but we have been certain to use the maintenance funds on Dudders, he is our pride and joy after all."

"Well boy!" Marge turned to Harry, "What do you have to say for yourself, I hope you appreciate what Vernon has done for you?" Harry didn't even know the meaning of appreciate, but he thought he understood; he had to tell her how nice they were; or he'd be in trouble again, he hated being in trouble.

"They are really nice ma'am," said Harry, "but I'll never ever be as good as Dudley ma'am." Marge frowned.

"You dare compare yourself to my Dudders you fowl little twerp, but then again eh Vern, I can't agree with him more…" Vernon nodded furiously,

"Of course dear," replied Vernon eagerly, clearly grabbing another chance to berate Harry with both hands. "He still has a very, very long way to go mind you, he does have his days."

"Well, as they always say, it's the breeding, like my pups, I have to ensure that their breeding is of the best standard, otherwise we have serious problems, I can see that it's too late for this one…" she added, pointing towards the younger child as Dudley began scoffing his way delightedly through a third bag of salt and vinegar.

"Of course, you have hit the nail right on the head!"

"More tea Marge dear?" Petunia asked nervously,

"Ah, wouldn't say no Petunia, very kind of you, and as I say Vern, you make sure you keep beating some sense into him, he'll never be right in the head, but we can at least get other people to see what he really is and stay away from him, wouldn't want anyone else to start breeding families from this trash!" She laughed a purely evil, and hollow laugh, clearly enjoying herself immensely.

Harry was getting very angry at this, he could see the enjoyment written all over their faces, especially Marge's; he might not be comprehending the full extent of the conversation, yet he was certainly picking up the gist of it. Before Harry's thoughts could continue however, Marge continued…

"I don't know why you bothered"

"We didn't want him!" Vernon raised his hands slightly, indicating towards his confusion as to why he even took him in.

"I'd of dumped him in the orphanage, and with the other trash of society…" Harry couldn't believe that they were saying these things!

"Can I help to make it better?" The little Harry asked in earnest; hopefully.

"How dare you speak to me child, let alone shout at me, who the hell do you think you are you little tyke!" Harry shot from the room before Vernon could do anything. His little green eyes were flooded with tears and his heart was falling to pieces yet again; why couldn't mummy and daddy have stayed with him. It wasn't the first time these things had happened and it wouldn't be the last. No matter how regularly things like this happened, the heartbreak was always worse each time.

* * *

Harry, aged four, lay on the floor in a helpless state of immobilisation, looking up at Dudley and his uncle Vernon in fear.

"I daddy?" A four year old Dudley asked Vernon.

"Of course Dudders dear!" Vernon obliged, handing his son the metal pole. Dudley hesitated, getting the angle right before swinging it down upon Harry's arm. Harry screamed out and Dudley turned to Vernon.

"I hit him some more daddy because he is a freak and he not supposed to be here."

"Well done Duddy my boy, and I'll give him some more afterwards for being a waste of space, depleting our household supplies."

"But he doesn't have to live here daddy, we can get him out?" Dudley asked hopefully,

"Believe me son, I would have got rid of him ages ago had I had the chance, but that smarmy old coot with that awful beard that came years ago has made us keep it."

"But why?"

"Don't worry over it my boy, just have some fun with him."

"Do I get crisps after?"

"Of course my Duddy, of course, you can have three if you make a good job of quieting the freak." Dudley, at the prospect of multiple bags of crisps, also knowing that three meant the whole multi-pack bag, and Harry receiving the blame for a lack of supplies, motivated him to go all out on little Harry with the metal pole; and Harry suffered all the more for that; and there was no bag of crisps waiting for him when it was all over. not even when he had eventually awoken ten minutes later, still dizzy from his former state of unconsciousness in his cupboard.

* * *

Marge was round again, and a four year old Harry was being chased around the garden by Marge's largest; favourite, and by far the most ferocious bull terrier, having accidentally and indirectly smashed a glass from Dudley's hand with his anger, from being verbally beaten down like the tramp that he was being made out to be.

"You get the little freak!" Harry could hear Marge's voice ringing around the perimeter of the garden, directing her commands to her beloved pooch. He scrambled his way up the nearest tree and clung for what he thought, or knew would have been his life.

The next morning arrived after what seemed like multiple millennia. Dawn had broken; yet nobody had bothered to rise until around nine, for breakfast; where Marge and the Dursley trio sat around the breakfast table in the conservatory, gorging down their vast plates of steaming, yoghurt filled pancakes; or chocolate filled in Dudley's case. Here they sat for a further hour, with coffee on the side, observing and scrutinising Harry's struggle in delight.

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I have redone this chapter as I have found some typos, courtesy of my word processor grr!

Reviews are greatly appreciated, and remember to tell me your house preference so I can give you some points... :)

Best wishes to you all x


	3. Fanning the Flames of Hatred

**A/N**** -**There are only two more memory chapters after this one, so don't fear; Harry's Hogwarts life, and appearances from the marvellous Severus will come soon!

Anyone got any ideas how to rectify this atrocious line spacing, that is gradually becoming more and more of a _pain!_?

Enjoy x

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**Chapter 3 – Sticks and Stones**

* * *

Five year old Harry was in the kitchen once again in the Dursley home, not his home. He was making finger food for Vernon's boss. Vernon and Petunia were to host a buffet and drinks to advertise his new ideas for the business in which he worked for.

"I wanted cheese and pickle you imbecile, I wanted the cheese and coleslaw AFTER the pickle!" Petunia screeched, ramming a frying pan into Harry's shoulder blades, like a drumstick to a Chinese gong.

"Yes aunt Petunia, the pickle ones are done and on the top shelf of the fridge, ready." Harry spoke quickly as he could in an attempt to prevent any further blows with that pan - 'that really hurt' he thought.

"Well, see to it that it gets done, and do not refer to me as your aunt, silly child, I am Petunia, and see that you remember it."

"Sorry. Yes, Petunia."

"That's better boy - wait," She halted, hands plastered over mouth, in an over dramatic manner. "My pea fritters! I Haven't put them in the oven, see to it that it's done child" she demanded hoarsely, expecting her five year old nephew to be able to work the oven without a hitch, regardless of the risks involved!

"Already done ma'am." her nephew spoke pleasantly, not that he received any pleasantries in return. At that moment Vernon walked in and assessed his caterer's skills.

Out of absolutely nowhere, Harry was repeatedly struck, hard on the shoulders with a metal spatula. Did that woman never get a grip?

"I TOLD you I wanted it in "GOLD foil, do you never listen you idiotic specimen?"

"Yes Petunia, I'm really sorry, but the foil is silver, there is no gold, and as the only one was silver-"

"As I concluded, you have DISOBEYED ME AGAIN!" She hollered, as shrilly as only she could manage. She slapped the blows down over young Harry and didn't't stop until Vernon broke out in frustration, like a second bomb exploding into flames. He was not however, exploding to halt Petunia's frustrations from further escalating; in fact, it appeared that her fit of unrestrained anger had induced Vernon's irritation to a much greater extent.

"BOY!" He bellowed in his masterful, or so he believed, booming voice of reason. "I wanted all this in the fridge!" He demanded, knowing full well that the fridge was currently at its full capacity.

"Yes sir, but there was no room in there, so what about the other-"

"I said NO!" Vernon hollered, and grabbed Harry by the shoulders. "You never LEARN!" He shoved Harry full force into an open cupboard door, which Petunia had been fiddling with only moments before. Harry was chucked with such brute force that his left leg took the cupboard door off it's hinges and he collapsed onto the floor by the fridge; the appliance that had caused this very argument.

"MY DO-OR" Petunia Squawked. Vernon dragged Harry, who protested with weak flailing to the living room.

Petunia, after staring in horror at her precious lower cupboard door for about thirty seconds turned around and watched Vernon, dragging the now, no longer resisting youngster alongside him. She turned to Dudley on the other side of the room, still sat at the kitchen table, inhaling his third chocolate bar, only twenty minutes since breakfast had finished. Her heart melted at the sight of her baby looking so contented, and munching away with such appreciation. He was a growing boy and needed everything she could provide for him.

In the living room, having received a strapping from Vernon's belt three times across the back, Harry was laying there, panting in both pain and fear, yet he could not show this. As Vernon replaced his belt, Harry wondered what had happened in the kitchen. He was being punished for doing what he was asked, or rather forced into doing.

* * *

A five year old Harry was mowing the lawn with exhaustive effort when Vernon waved him in from the back door. Was this a relief or another punishment? He never could predict the events that occurred with the passing of each day, and how it would affect both his physical and mental capacity. How was he, a mere five year old, supposed to operate a machine such as this that he could barely reach, let alone push along and mow in his prescribed time limit! No, this wasn't good. He was left alone with the mower, which was normally a more fortuitous experience, but being called inside meant contact with the Dursley's; more often than not, literal contact.

When Harry entered the living room, following Vernon, Petunia screamed and almost gave herself a heart attack when she saw Harry's dirtied clothes.

"You get ANY dirt on my furniture boy and you will be very sorry" she threatened.

"This, is a list of chores you little freak…" Vernon interrupted,

"Daddy, I'm trying to watch my show" Dudley howled, with the intonation of a three year old child who wants another sweetie from the jar.

"Sorry Duddy, I'll be done very quickly," he assured. "You have a list," he barked at Harry, scowling ominously. "It must be completed by the time we get back in five days or you will be sorry. There is three pounds on the table for you to go to the shop and get yourself some food." 'Yeah' Harry thought, like I even get to eat anyway, 'I bet there's nothing in the fridge.' He looked at the list that Vernon had just handed to him.

Clean all the walls, interiors, windows, frames and floors top to bottom with warm water and soap - no scratching or you will not live in time to regret it!

Mow all lawns (already completed mowing doesn't count.)

Clean the dishwasher three times.

Clean Dudley's rooms, don't lose anything. - Clean all objects and insides of all objects and furniture - replace everything exactly as it was!

Hoover all floors twice and wash all carpet stains.

Prune the shrubs and water the flowers at least once a day.

Level all soil.

Tidy and clean the kitchen, and all cupboards and appliances.

Wash the sofa covers and replace when cleaned.

Do all washing left, dishes, utensils and clothes, and bed linen etc… and put them exactly where they are supposed to be - or you will pay.

Tidy the shed.

Clean the driveway - at night so nobody sees you.

Put all post on the sideboard of the hall.

Clean all ceilings with soap and warm water, (any drips and you will suffer!)

Wash the banister of the stairs and the carpet on the stairs twice.

Wash the exterior of the windows again.

Sweep the chimney, and clean up after yourself!

Have a three course meal ready with all cooking completed and laid out ready for six thirty in five days' time when we arrive back, ready to be eaten.

"We'll be off in half an hour freak, and believe me, if anything is not done, you will wish you had never been born." With a final punch to the torso and a severe blow to the upside of the head, that sent Harry swaying and battling against stars impeding his vision, Vernon stomped off with Petunia close in tow.

* * *

It was a Sunday morning, not that Harry was even aware. Dudley came running down the stairs, ensuring he jumped heavily onto the stairs to cause rubble to fall onto Harry, who was residing in the cupboard below.

"Potter!" The five year old, whale of a Dudley chortled, as he then proceeded to run; or waddle up and down the stairs, in a curious form of a one man relay race, causing yet more dust to splatter below. Petunia emerged from the living room across the hall, having courteously handed Vernon the morning paper. She swiftly opened the cupboard door and barked like a Chihuahua.

"Up! Breakfast, and hurry, Vernon and Dudders are waiting!" Harry had to cover his ears as he was sitting adjacent to the screeching noise that never ceased to astound his ear drums!

Harry was preparing breakfast three minutes later when Vernon walked in, it was mid -winter, the heating was on full blast and Vernon was still sporting his knitted jumper; his excess weight clearly not acting as fruitful insulation. Harry thought he looked rather amusing, yet one scowl alone from the man removed the grin from his sorry little face.

"I want you mowing the lawn boy!" Vernon hollered into Harry's face. He stood merely inches away, and his figure was so imposing that Harry was forced, out of fear to take a step back. Vernon grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back to his former position, and crouched, peering into those emerald green eyes, with a voice of pure malice.

"You LISTEN to me when I talk to you, imbecile, I said LAWN boy, NOW!" But it was snowing outside; all areas of lawn and pathway were covered by two inches of the thick white substance.

"But sir -"

"LAWN, boy! And don't come back in until it's completed, I don't care HOW long it takes you - or else…"

Three hours later, Harry had finished the lawn, or so he thought. It was the best he could do. Not only was he five years of age, and completely unable to reach the mower, let alone push the damn thing, but the snow had to be moved too. This alone rendered the task unmanageable.

Having succeeded in escaping to his cupboard for half an hour and managing to scrounge a piece of cold toast from the bin on the way, Vernon rounded the corner of the hallway and came face to face with the innocent party.

"BOY! That lawn has been done completely inadequately!" Harry had no idea what inadequately meant, but from Vernon's tone, he could distinguish that he was not impressed.

"But Sir, it was covered -"

"Snowing or not I demanded that it was done and you failed boy - what are you?" Harry gave up.

"A fail Sir"

"Yes, a failure," which was accentuated with a harsh smack to his head which sent his skull hurtling into the plastered wall of his cupboard. The audible thud rendered Harry immediately dizzy, yet he starred up at Vernon, obviously in comprehension that this 'conversation' was not over yet.

"OUT!" Harry immediately raised himself, but having hurt his ankle the day before, he was a little slow. Vernon seized him by the collar and dragged him out. Harry's side crunched against the wall painfully as he was dragged away unceremoniously, but before he could put a hand there to ease the pain, Vernon had yanked his arm away and swung him round into the adjacent wall. Fortunately Harry's rear end was first to hit the wall this time, which lessened the impact somewhat, but once he had involuntarily crumpled to the floor, Vernon had let loose into him yet again.

Harry was now on the floor in the living room, five minutes later, having been dragged there by the neck of his second hand shirt. He was feeling incredibly dizzy and tiresome, yet he endeavored to ensure that this didn't show to Vernon, who regularly took deep pleasure in mocking him for his apparent weakness.

"You are good for nothing!" he bellowed. He was so close to little Harry's face that all Harry could see was his cave - sized mouth opening and closing, and gusts of air engulfing him as he was persistently scolded. Gee it reeked of onions! Harry's lack of response clearly enraged Vernon. He was fully aware that Harry was simply processing what he was telling him; however this was far from acceptable in his evil eyes. A not so swift kick to the head, whilst Harry was on the floor sent him reeling. He tried his hardest to swing himself over on to this other side, facing away from Vernon, thus protecting his head. Vernon however was not so forgiving, but had moved away, leaving Harry, shielding himself, wondering what was happening.

After about thirty seconds, Harry plucked up the courage to peer out from the safety of his arms; or what little safety they offered and was struck. Struck, out of nowhere. Vernon's aim left a great deal to be desired fortunately, yet the lamp he was swinging down repeatedly was causing unbearable pain. He was already sickened with hurt and grief. His head was whirling in the murkiest of depths and one last blow, strong and secure, landed square over his chest. The pressure was too immense. His breathing was already labored, and this only acted as increasing pressure that was ultimately unavoidable. He faded swiftly into blackness, only visualizing the stars that led him through his gateway to temporary peace, until the next time…

* * *

Young Harry, four days later was struggling with the windows. Cleaning was required, according to Petunia; regardless of the fact that the local cleaner had only visited a few days previous. The uppermost windows were too high for him to reach, and not only was he having to dangle himself from the ledge to first use the wiper and sponge, then secondly to use the hose, that he had to hitch up from the ground earlier that morning; but he also found himself climbing up the drain pipe having been denied the use of a ladder; and furthermore he had to endure Petunia jumping down his throat every five minutes. First he was creating too much soap, then it was dripping down to lower levels. Then the neighbors would see him, and then Petunia decided that the neighbors shouldn't even see him at all, and he had to clean the windows without getting outside. Then after another two minutes, and after realizations that this was a complete impracticality, Petunia demanded he retain his position in the threshold of the window, on the serious condition that he hide himself, should any of the neighbors look across the street.

Now Petunia was partially satisfied at Harry's efforts in such a perilous situation, she would leave him to it… Or so Harry thought until Vernon burst through the door almost making Petunia levitate herself in fright!

"I wanted those windows finished half an hour ago, how dare you take it upon yourself to rest, you're not leaning far enough.

"I'm sorry Sir, can't reach" The reply came, so quietly. He released the breath that he had been holding since he heard the slam of the door.

"I don't care if you can't reach, I demanded it done, and it wasn't!" Vernon stormed towards him; little did he know that a certain witch, by the name of Arabella Figg was observing this whole escapade through her own downstairs, living room window across the road. Vernon made an instant grab for Harry. Harry despised that; he truly feared it. He flinched backwards involuntarily.

Harry reached for security as he began to fall; his fingertips brushed the sill of the window as he slipped. It resembled a slow motion movie. Petunia screeched; Dudley was nowhere to be seen, most likely guffawing at the television set in the living room. Vernon's eyes widened. They didn't widen through fear for Harry however, only through fear that the neighbors would witness this, and that he would be justly prosecuted. His nephew's potentially impending injuries or even death did not appear to bother him.

Harry continued to fall towards the pristine lawn below. He didn't scream, he was becoming accustomed to remaining quiet. Harry was a meter from the ground when he suddenly slowed. He was gently lowered to the ground with a gentle thump. He looked up to see his aunt and uncle glowering down at him from their new position, peering from the window. Were they hoping that he would die? Were they disappointed that he didn't? Was he supposed to have prevented his fall from the window?

Harry was in a state of shock, panting as he lay on the hard ground. His little heart was beating triple time and his breathing was heavy and rapid. As soon as he saw Vernon approach him; now downstairs, he recoiled once again. Vernon reached him, but before he grabbed for him, he took a swift glance around the street. No sign of anyone, not even that interfering twerp of a woman who lived across the road; Mrs. Figg. She was always telling him how to bring up his kids. Vernon internally scoffed at her insolence and seized Harry by the right arm. He was momentarily dragged inside and deposited like a waste product on the living room rug.

"TV!" Dudley hollered, clearly displeased that he had been interrupted.

"It's okay Dudders, I thought you might like to join in!"

"I want my TV!"

"You don't want to help me punish him?" Vernon asked, shocked at the lack of interest from his precious son. Tom and Jerry was simply too entertaining. Vernon snorted and turned on Harry himself. Petunia glanced at Vernon before engaging herself in the proceedings and also crouched over the little child on the floor.

"How DARE you fall out of the window, do you not KNOW how that could have affected my reputation!" Harry didn't understand. Vernon continued. "I could have been in so much trouble!" He scolded ferociously.

"You stupid, stupid little creature!" Petunia wailed, slapping incessantly at Harry's torso, with as much strength as she could muster. Vernon smiled evilly, then out of nowhere, all Harry could see was a pair of podgy, red hands coming towards him. Vernon had grasped him around the throat and yanked him into a sitting position. He then proceeded to contentedly choke him for a further minute or so until he was substantially winded. Harry then discovered himself sitting, or rather slumped against the wall next to the white, pristine marble fireplace, it's flames crackling fiercely; licking at his clothing; the heat wafting over his every bone; he felt as if he was being engulfed in fumes, unable to breathe efficiently.

"MOVE" Dudley yelled at Vernon, when the family had realized that Harry was no longer in the land of the conscious.

"Sorry darling," Petunia cooed. Vernon plodded over and sat beside his Dudley, ruffling his hair affectionately, as Petunia dragged Harry out of sight by his pint-sized jumper; not wanting to make contact with her nephew. He was light in weight and even Petunia had no difficulty placing him with a little more delicacy in the cupboard, allowing him to sleep in undisturbed peace.

* * *

Harry, now aged six had been summoned once again by uncle Vernon. This time however, he had been vehemently instructed to purchase a second family size bottle of cola from the local store; Dudley having demanded that one is completely insufficient and would not last for the duration of the family barbeque that evening.

Harry, having returned a mere five minutes later was literally pounced on by an oversized Dudley demanding his cola.

"DAD!" He screeched. Vernon spun on his heel, his weight nearly leaving him toppling head first into the lawn. He approached, stampeding like a hormonal bull, gesticulating impatiently with his barbeque tongs.

"Yes Duddy?" He cooed,

"They didn't put enough in it" he sulked, holding out the bottle for his father to examine, even though it was evident that it was filled to the same extent as all other bottles that were sitting atop the shop shelf. Vernon sneered, completely aware of this fact and turned menacingly on Harry who was currently stood beside the two of them, silently observing the whole spectacle.

"BOY!" Harry jumped and fought to resist against his customary, instinctive manoeuvre of scrambling backwards in fright. "How dare you take the least filled bottle," he continued, edging closer to Harry with every syllable.

"I'm sorry sir, they were all the same, I swear!" He cowered fearfully in return.

"You're clearly not swearing enough you skanky little urchin-

"Please sir, I will carry on preparing your food for the barbeque if you like?" Harry was almost pleading in distress.

"How DARE you interrupt me when I am reminding you of what distress you constantly bring to our family. You bring us nothing but embarrassment, and even though we allow you to stay within these four walls, you are still incompetent enough to fail at every menial task we demand of you. You are not even worthy of the mat my family wipe our shoes on." Vernon cuffed him, hard on the back of his head, propelling him forwards somewhat. Harry had to regain his footing swiftly.

The evening was drawing to a close. Harry having been accommodating every one of the Dursley's requests for the whole duration of the barbeque, and not been provided with any food due to his minor outburst beforehand, had moved on to clear the cooking utensils away whilst the family retired inside. He was just about to lift a bucket, to use for the purposes of cooling the barbeque when Vernon's fist collided with his back, inducing a flinch in astonishment, making him drop the bucket to the fresh green grass; leaving a spillage of clear cool water.

"For goodness sake boy, you never learn. You continue to destroy our property and disgrace us!" He seized Harry by the scruff of his neck, with force and hurled him to the floor. Harry scrambled backwards in an attempt to increase the distance between himself, and this surly monster of an uncle. "You stay right where you are boy," Vernon necessitated in the most foreboding tone Harry had heard from him thus far. "You're coming with me. I believe a change in your sleeping arrangements are necessary, to resolve this atrocious behaviour of yours."

With another chillingly twisted grin, Harry was heaved to his feet and dragged along the lawn, leaving the bucket, and the extinguished barbeque to stand alone, unattended to. Minutes later, Harry found himself adjusting to his new surroundings for what he assumed would be the next few days at least. He was accustomed to being dumped and abandoned in various places. The Dursley's often travelled on vacation, leaving him locked up alone for weeks at any one time. He was already ravenous, yet he never protested; his usual routine thus took hold. He took shelter in the furthest corner of the shed, where he was now detained, between the thickest area of wood and the dreaded lawnmower, thus making the best attempt at sheltering himself, without blankets for the uncertain nights ahead.

* * *

The doorbell rang throughout the Dursley household.

"Pizza!" The pint-sized whale called from his slouched position on the sofa. Vernon, who had been seated beside his son, struggled to raise himself from the sofa to make his way towards the front door. He simply happened to stumble across six year old Harry on his journey.

"BOY!" He demanded, so suddenly that Harry crashed into the banister of the stairs in complete surprise, before placing a hand to the back of his shoulder blade and rubbing the sore spot.

"Yes Sir?"

"Cutlery and plates; lay the table now; and make an extra space."

"Yes Sir." Harry fled as fast as his legs would carry him, to the kitchen. Why did Vernon want an extra place? Did this mean that he was to eat alongside them and share a meal together today? The delight bubbled inside Harry; an emotion that he had not felt in such a long time.

Upon entering the kitchen, he found his aunt Petunia bustling around; flapping about like a penguin.

"Sorry aunt Petunia, may I get to the cupboard please? "He asked courteously. Petunia cocked her head in repugnance at having vermin wandering freely around her precious kitchen, but allowed him past nonetheless; but not before spluttering a spiteful remark in his direction.

"Just don't get the condiments grubby boy, and I want all my utensils returned clean and sparkling when we have finished with them, do you hear me?" Her hooked nose looked even more elongated as the sunlight shone uncomfortably through the kitchen window.

"Of course Petunia,"

"Petunia?" He asked tentatively…

"Whatever is the problem you unruly little ragamuffin?"

"I don't know what a condiment is…"

"Uneducated as ever, do they teach you nothing; our Dudley of course has the most high-class education that scum like you can only dream of." At Harry's bored look she simply darted another glare towards him and informed him that she was referring to the sauces, cutlery and plates within the confines of the cupboard. Harry, having finally understood her request continued laying the table, still querying the extra places within his mind.

The pizzas, sides, dips and drinks had been served. Harry had been poured a small glass of cola and was sat confusedly before the table-top, wondering what was to develop from this somewhat bizarre situation.

"Dudley, would you mind collecting the rest of the meal from the back door? I left it to chill last night." Dudley didn't comprehend that instruction and glanced at Vernon as if it was too greater an effort. Vernon continued to speak in a pleasant intonation.

"We saved it especially for this being," he cooed, directing his plump finger in the general direction of Harry."

"We discussed it earlier" he added upon reading the confusion upon his son's face. Dudley eventually seemed to click and jumped up from the table in an instant, almost knocking the whole set up over as his vast weight nearly collided into it with involuntary brute force.

"YOU!" Vernon spat at Harry. "If you had set this up properly then we wouldn't have to be walking so carefully around it; look at Poor Dudley; do you never learn." However, before Vernon could continue with his offensive verbal rampage, Dudley returned carrying a plate of what appeared to be soiled filth; grimy looking and sludgy.

Petunia stood and began to distribute the pizza slices alongside the contents of the sides, whilst Vernon approached Harry and speared a wooden spoon into the disgusting substance, and dolled it unceremoniously onto his plate.

"This is for you. Foul food equals your foul personality. Now EAT!" He commanded threateningly.

"What is this Sir?" Harry questioned; obviously feeling some slight bravery. Vernon looked up from his pizza slice; perilous eyes glinting evilly towards him. Harry had seen that look so many times before; and it never became any easier to deal with.

"What is this?" He mimicked his question. He paused, putting his pizza slice back onto his plate. "This is all you are fit to eat. Mud." He thought he would add to the occasion. "Locally sourced; came from the pigpens down at Mr Jack's farm."

Harry left his plate untouched, and after a further ten arduous minutes of observing the family appreciating a sumptuous takeaway, Vernon managed to tear his eyes away from his plate for the purposes of aggravating little Harry further.

"If you don't eat what is on that plate by the time we have all finished desert, I will gladly force it down your slimy little throat." Harry, having heard enough, had no other option than to dig in.

Little was Harry aware that this memory would haunt him for years to come. He would repeatedly relive the texture of the slimy substance, and the feel of it forcing its way not so gracefully down his throat. He would continually experience the gagging sensation, and the choking that was induced by the vigour behind Vernon's feeding methods. It would be a physically disconcerting memory, as well as a mentally detrimental one.

* * *

Hope you liked it! I promise to be getting into the good stuff soon, as I have said, only two more chapters of memories to go, then we'll be set to jump straight into 4th year and we can kick start Harry's problems, with Snape rockin' the scene!

I'm still after your house preferences for my house points! Remember to either write your preferred house, or give me a G,H,S or R when you review or dm me

**Shoutouts!**

Huge thanks to,** ZippyStar** and **Thatsallwegot** for their lovely reviews!

Huge thanks to **Jamiefin** and **Darkeningwolf** for their favourites

Huge thanks to** ZippyStar**, **SRWM**, **Thatsallwegot** and **Polymath girl** for adding my work to their alerts!

Best wishes x


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